Another Chance
by Flashofblue
Summary: Out in the fresh air, soaking in the rain, she sits, thinking about the mess she's in. And then she finally makes a decision. - Spoilers for 4x23.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This contains __**spoilers **__for the promos (both from CTV and ABC) and one, minor spoiler from Ausiello. No spoilers for the sneak peeks, though, so if you're just not watching those you should be okay. Otherwise, you can come back after the finale to read this – if you survive, that is…_

_Also, I know this is_ incredibly_late, but I did promise a birthday update a while ago. So, Andy, this is for you. On a regular day. (Which is more original than posting this on your birthday anyway, right?)_

* * *

**Another Chance  
**

* * *

Six months ago, she had been in this exact same place.

Inhaling the fresh air, she glances over to the empty swing next to her, flinching when she feels memories of him tugging at her heart.

Her feet lightly brush the ground as she sways back and forth slowly. The sky had already started to darken when she'd been on her way here and now, as she sits on the swing at the deserted playground, the first raindrops fall from the sky. More follow quickly, and soon the rain is pouring down, slowly soaking through the layers of her clothes.

A shiver runs down her spine from the cold, but she doesn't move, doesn't get up to find shelter from the rain.

She needs the rain, needs to clear her mind so she can figure out the mess she's in. And, more importantly, how she's going to get out of it.

God, she _really _screwed up.

Screwed up so badly that now, she has nowhere to go, no one to turn to.

No work – not since she turned in her badge that morning. Not her dad either – she isn't ready to face him yet, isn't ready to admit that she quit. She also doesn't want her friends' sympathetic looks, could barely handle it at the precinct that day.

And then there's him. Castle.

She – she's pretty sure she lost him. Walking out on someone who's begging you not to, who confesses their _love _for you, well, forgiveness only goes so far. And she had a chance before, _chances_, even. But judging from the hurt in his tear-filled eyes, the wounded look on his face when she told him to leave, she isn't sure if she'll get another one.

She leans her head against the metal chain of the swing, closing her eyes as the rain keeps falling, trying to keep the tears that burn behind her eyes from falling too.

This isn't at all how things are supposed to be. When her wall would come down, she wasn't supposed to be left alone with the ruins. But now here she is.

_I love you, Kate._

The words haunt her thoughts, his voice ever-present in the back of her mind. They have been running through her mind for a long time already. Before, they made her feel hopeful. And, secretly, giddy, a fluttery feeling spreading through her stomach like she just got asked out by her high-school crush.

Now, all she sees is him, hurt, broken, begging. Begging her. And it's definitely not butterflies she feels in her stomach. No, more like a knife, twisting slowly.

Would he still –

No. She stops her thought mid-sentence. She can't start thinking like this. Though, if she's being honest with herself, she isn't so sure if he still wants her. Wants, maybe, but more if he can give her another chance. She doesn't think she deserves one, still, she wants it badly.

But she's always been a fighter, hasn't she? And she wants him. Can clearly see how much, now that nothing else requires her attention. No complications, though of course everything is still complicated. But there is no reason to stay away from him. Except fear.

Fear that it's all too late.

She watches a man on the sidewalk clutching an umbrella in one hand, a briefcase in the other. Before he crosses the street, she sees him subtly – not so subtly – glance in her direction. The look on his face makes her realize how pathetic she must look, sitting alone on a swing in the pouring rain.

When she catches the man's gaze, he looks away embarrassedly, and continues making his way through the rain. This is New York City after all, and she doesn't doubt the man has come across much stranger people.

Still. She shouldn't be sitting here like this, doesn't want people to think of her as pathetic. And for god sakes, she's a grown woman, sitting on a playground, moping, and thinking about a guy. _Seriously, Kate?_

She takes a breath, pushes a strand of wet hair from her face.

No.

She needs to do something. She's been stupid, did all the wrong things, but she can make it right. Needs to. Because she wants him back.

He _loves _her. She hears his words like a whisper in her ear, feels an unpleasant tug, guilt, in her abdomen. Love. She repeats the word in her mind, makes herself hear his words until it doesn't hurt as much anymore. Until she feels a pleasant rush of emotions, one that makes the corners of her mouth turn up slightly in acknowledgment. He loves her.

She loves him too.

Her body thrums with newfound determination when she stands up. It makes her heart pound faster in her chest, adrenalin rushing through her veins.

She loves him.

And she's going to show him. She is going to make him give her another chance.

* * *

_A/N: So, this is going to be a two-shot and I've written most of the second part already, which I'll post either later today or tomorrow. (The rating will change, though. More 'M', slightly less angst…)  
Anyway, I haven't posted anything in a while, am slightly nervous about this, so I would love to hear your thoughts, even if it's just to let me know you liked/disliked this._

_Also, do you_ realize_ what day it is tomorrow? Only one day left… (Technically, two days for me, but still. It's soon. Very soon.)_


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: As promised, here's the second chapter, just in time before the finale… (Which is so soon already. Is everyone as totally psyched as I am?)  
Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. :) Oh, and note that the rating has changed to 'M', with good reason…  
_

* * *

**Another Chance**

The doorman gives her an odd look, probably because she's still soaked and her hair must be a mess, too, but she can't find herself to care. She enters his building, walks past the elevator and heads straight for the stairs.

She doesn't want to stop now, doesn't want to wait on an elevator. Because she is _doing _this, and she is not going to wait for anything anymore. She wants this. She wants –

She wants him.

She takes the stairs two steps at the time, has to slow herself down when she nearly slips because of her wet, slippery, boots. _Great, _she thinks sarcastically. She takes a frustrated breath, but forces herself to take it easy. Arriving at his door breathlessly wouldn't be the best idea anyway.

She bites her lip. For what she has in mind, she'll already be breathless enough without help of the stairs.

When she finally arrives at his floor, her heart thuds loudly in her chest as she walks to his door. Then, she halts.

_What am I thinking?_

Almost the same moment the thought runs through her head, imagines of him spring to mind.

Oh, she knows very well what she is thinking.  
_  
_(She is thinking about his hands – big, strong hands, and all the things he could use them for.  
She's thinking about his hair, remembering how it feels to have her fingers running through it.  
But mostly, she is thinking about his full lips and how badly she wants to feel them pressed against hers again. How she wants _all _of him pressed against her.)

She takes a breath, her mind racing with the mental images, and then her hand drifts towards his doorbell, ringing it before she can change her mind.

The sound pierces the silence of his loft, and she holds her breath when she hears soft, shuffling sound. Footsteps.

Her heart skips a beat.

Footsteps coming closer.

She takes a shallow breath – did she get breathless _already?_

The footsteps come to stop at the door, and she knows she is _this _close to seeing him, getting her chance to show him how she feels.

A pang of want, desire, spreads through her body in anticipation.

The door swings open and then she's face to face with Castle.

For about a second, she just looks at him, sees a range of emotions play across his features. Her mouth opens slightly but anything she thought of saying – all the words – die on her lips.

Instead, she steps across the threshold, her hands reaching for his face, and she leans in, can still see his eyes darken just before her mouth is on his, her lips demanding, wanting, moving against his with purpose.

She meant to tell him how she felt, too. Before she showed him, maybe. But she didn't anticipate that she would get lost in the moment – in him – so easily. She does, though, and when she traces his lower lip with his tongue, his mouth opening in response, deepening the kiss, she really doesn't care.

Her entire body is alive, her blood rushing, wanting, and she moves closer, presses her body against his further, moves her hands around the back of his neck.

The way his tongue moves against hers is good, _so_good, and then his hands are on her hips and he –

He stops.

"Kate." His voice is gravely when he breaks their kiss, and he swallows hard, trying to catch his breath. "What –"

His question is cut off by the tilt of her hips as she grinds into him, the words getting stuck in his throat, a groan leaving his lips instead.

It isn't that she doesn't want to answer his questions, she does. But she doesn't want to explain everything now, isn't ready to say what changed, ready to talk about what happened. So for now, she hopes the four words she has to say are enough.

"Castle – Rick," she corrects herself, making sure she has his attention. She wants to bury her face in his chest, or move her mouth to his ear, whisper the words teasingly, maybe. But she holds his gaze, doesn't take the easy way out. "I love you too."

It doesn't take long for the words to register in his mind, she notices the moment it does. There's a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, his eyes bright, happy, like a cloud has lifted.

She feels a smile forming on her own face, too, but then his lips are on hers again, kissing her more eagerly, more passionately than before, and she can almost feel her head spinning with the sensation.

His hands are back on her body again, exploring, and then he lifts her, presses her into the door she hadn't realized was still ajar. It falls closed with a snap, followed by the soft thud of her back hitting the wood as he traps her body between him and the door.

She lets out a soft whimper when his lips are on her neck, his mouth gently, exploring, until he finds he finds that _one _spot, sucks on it and –

_Oh. _

Her mouth falls open, a sharp breath leaving her lips as she treads her fingers through his hair.

He smiles against her skin, loves the way he can elicit all these little sounds from her, is thinking about more possibilities, wanting to make her scream.

She tugs on his hair, then, brings his mouth back to hers again, meets him in an open-mouthed kiss, all tongue and heat and desire and it leaves them both gasping for air. She wraps her legs around his waist, pulls back from the kiss for a moment to utter a breathy, "Castle," before his lips touch hers again.

"Hmm." He hums against her mouth.

"Be-" She gasps when his hand move to her ass, pulling her lower body into him, making her feel _exactly _how aroused he is. _God, _he is trying to kill her. "Bedroom." She finishes after a beat.

Somehow they manage to make their way through his apartment, albeit slowly, both not wanting to lose contact as they stumble through the room. It doesn't entirely goes smoothly, their walk filled with stolen kisses, playful at first, but quickly growing in intensity.

They walk through his study, finally reach his bedroom door when he suddenly hits his knee against the doorframe, muttering something under his breathat the unexpected pain, tries to glare at her when he spots an amused quirk of her lips. Not that he could really be mad at her, though, not when she's unbuttoning her blouse in front of him, revealing so much skin when she drops the garment to the ground.

She grins, sees him swallow a lump in his throat.

She hooks a finger in the front of his shirt, pulling him into the bedroom with her, making him forget all about his knee, or something as insignificant as a doorframe.

That same shirt hits the floor not long after, and he's a little breathless when he feels her skin on his, takes a moment to watch water drip from her hair, a single drop making its way down knew, moving to her chest.

She watches him stare at her, his eyes dark, pupils dilated. It makes her abdomen clench in arousal. Any thought she might have that doesn't include him are quickly wiped from her mind when he moves in, his hands coming around her back to unclasp her bra, because then his mouth his on her, right above her breast, moving down as her bra drops to the floor.

His tongue flicks over her nipple and she moans, feels him murmur something against his skin, the vibrations going straight to her core.

She hasn't even gotten her pants off, is only half-dressed, but he already has her losing control, his mouth setting her body on fire everywhere he touches. But she's impatient, waited for years for this already, and she wants this, him, all of it. And they're still wearing way too many clothes.

Her hands move to his belt, trying undo it, and his mouth leaves her skin at the feeling of her hands so close. She's struggling with his belt, can't quite undo it as fast as she wants to – and he stills her hands, takes off his belt himself as she tries to take off own pants.

_Tries, _yes. Because she they're still soaked, heavy, clinging to her legs. She's impatient and _wet_ and she can't get her fucking pants off. _Not _part of the plan. She lets out a sound of frustration, then hears a low, throaty chuckle.

"What about this is funny, Castle?" She growls, frustrated, in more ways than one.

He gives her an sly, but adorable grin, and it makes her gaze soften a little. His hands slide down her body, gently grip her hips and he turns her around so his chest is pressed against her back, his hands skimming her abdomen. Her muscles twitch under his touch, his touch putting embers on the slow burning fire within her. Then he lowers his mouth to her ear, his voice low and husky as he speaks, "It's nice to know that you want me so badly that you get this mad at a pair of pants."

His voice is all smug, and she would comment if he weren't currently dipping his hands into her jeans, his thumbs hooking in her panties. She groans, shuts her eyes when his fingers move lower.

She feels his lips press a kiss against her shoulder before he slides his hands down, along her legs, slowly peeling off her remaining clothes.

When her jeans are one the floor, pooled around her ankles, she steps out of them and turns around to face him again, her hands sliding into his hair – she really does like his hair, especially likes getting to know what it feels like between her fingers.

His mouth is back on hers, then, his kiss hard, lips moving roughly over hers, swallowing her moans.

Yes, his hair his good. Currently she's even more appreciative of his mouth, though.

Her legs are getting quite unstable, buckling under the intensity of his kiss, the overwhelming feeling of having him pressed against her completely. But they still manage to carry her to his bed. They sink into the mattress, his expensive silk sheets comfortable against her naked skin. _His _skin even more comfortable against her.

Though she guesses comfortable is a relative term. Because the things his hands are doing to her right now are making her squirm, all her nerves on fire at the feel of him, and she shuts her eyes, listens how the sound of their heavy breathing fills the room.

Suddenly, his hands still, and then she feels him at the inside of her leg, and she opens her eyes, is immediately met with his.

The look in her eyes urges him on, all dark desire, arousal and – he holds his breath, the thought, the memory of her confession hitting him all over again – _love. _He slides into her then, hears her sharp intake of breath.

He stills, waits a beat before he pulls out again, and is then surprised when she tilts her lips, rises to meet him.

They find a rhythm, moving together, their bodies just as in sync as when they're building theory together, when they finish each other's sentences. Only the pleasure coursing through their bodies now is much greater, the only words between them this time breath, whispered ones as they bring each other closer to the edge.

Finally, she feels herself flying over the edge, the clenching of her muscles taking her with him seconds after.

When they both come down from the high, he rolls off her breathlessly, and they lay next to each other in silence, bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat. After a while, when their breathing has somewhat steadied, he rolls onto his side, moves to face her.

He pushes a damp strand of hair from her face, looks at her, the sudden playful spark in his eyes making her slightly suspicious at what he's about to say. His mouth is at her neck then, nipping at her skin before he lifts his head, "How did you get so wet, anyway?" he says, arching his eyebrow, one of his hand twirling her hair between his fingers, but the quick flick of his eyes downward making it perfectly clear what he's talking about.

He's looking way too pleased with himself, hiding a smirk against her skin, moves to take her earlobe in his mouth and she gasps, has to quickly bite her lip to keep an amused chuckle from leaving her mouth. Only Castle, she thinks, smiles at him despite herself when he meets her gaze, all warm and adoring.

She could get used to this.

The need for sleep does catch up with them soon, and he whispers a soft "love you" in her ear, makes her stomach flutter all over again.

She smiles, settles into his side as they drift off the sleep.

"Love you, too." She murmurs, sighs contently.

Taking another chance was definitely one of the best decision she ever made, she decides.

This time, hopefully she won't need another one.

* * *

_"(…) Why is Beckett soaking wet in that promo?"_  
Ausiello: That's what happens when you sit on a swing all alone in the middle of a torrential downpour sans umbrella.

* * *

_A/N: Now, before you all go off and watch the finale tonight, I would really love it if you left a review. You know, seeing as this finale could totally be the death of us. You might as well write some last words and make me happy while I wait (very) impatiently for my Castle Tuesday to come. ;)_


End file.
